


I'll Build Your Trust (It Won't Hurt At All)

by DancingForRain



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bromance, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical themes, Carl Buford - Freeform, Child Sexual Abuse, Family, Fluff, I was sleep deprived when I wrote this and extra sleep deprived when I edited it, I'll edit it better soon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Protective Derek Morgan, Slow Burn, Spencer Morgan, Spencer is Derek's little brother, Star Trek References, Team as Family, Young Derek Morgan, Young Spencer Reid, but amazingly I'm still mostly happy with it, except for Luke Alvez, he is also the BAU's little brother, in relation to cases:, like. the slooooowest of burns, mentions of molestation, only the VERY BEGINNINGS of it like one bad touch but it IS THERE, probably?, protective luke alvez, references to child neglect, sorry - Freeform, update I wrote and edited the second chapter at 2am drunk in a hotel room sadadsfdvsads, who is infatuated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-12-25 06:39:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18255812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingForRain/pseuds/DancingForRain
Summary: Luke Alvez is the newest member of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Spencer Morgan is Derek's elusive genius brother. They meet, and it sets them on entirely new paths in their lives.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buckybunnyteeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybunnyteeth/gifts).



> A few things!
> 
> First, this is an idea - a whole universe, really - that I've had in my head for probably years now, and never really planned on actually getting out. But a while ago buckybunnyteeth wrote a beautiful asexual!Spencer fic for me (I don't know how to link here but DEFINITELY go check out her work) and I've been wanting to repay her ever since. I tried one idea that I never quite managed to get out, but I thought she'd really appreciate the concept of this one, so I decided to finally start actually writing the thing. Again, I've had YEARS to flesh out this story and it's many plot points, so I'm not short on ideas for it, and know pretty much every which way I want it to go, but if you follow my writing at all you know how much I struggle to continue, let alone complete my longer stories, so I can't promise how much will ever go into this universe.
> 
> Second, Spencer is not an FBI agent in this story and never has or will be, but I've done my best not to let that take away from his character development, and the story still more or less revolves around him, albeit mostly from a different point of view. Those who enjoy the whump, don't fear - plenty of bad stuff has and will happen to Spencer in this story.
> 
> Third, WARNING. This chapter does mention canon typical brutality and sexual abuse in passing, in regards to their work and not in relation to any of the main characters. If I manage to continue the story, there will issues in the future that will hit closer to home for the characters, but I'll put any necessary warnings before them.
> 
> Finally, I have not watched an episode of Star Trek in my life, but I got some help from my Ace Fam discord and BreTheWriter in particular for that particular discussion, and she assured me it makes sense, so a MASSIVE thanks to her.
> 
> That's it, I think. Sorry for the lengthy notes, but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S look! I used a title that isn't terrible!

Luke Alvez, Emily Prentiss, and Aaron Hotchner are the first of their team to arrive back at Quantico after their case in Louisiana. It’s the wrong side of midnight and they’re all dreaming of a solid six hours in their own beds, but the trade off involves filling out the necessary paperwork at home over the weekend. Luke follows his boss into the BAU offices almost blindly, kept going by a single-minded focus to pick up his forms and get the hell out of here.

He can practically see Roxy dancing on her paws in excitement when he first opens the door.

Hotch silently makes his way to his own office with a small wave and nod of acknowledgement aimed at the bullpen, which is the only reason Luke notices the man sitting there before he’s practically on top of him.

The man is incredibly pale and appears young, has to be in his early to mid-twenties, with wavy brown hair that falls over his forehead like it can’t be convinced to stay out of the way. He’s wearing an FBI sweatshirt at least two sizes too big for him and skinny jeans that betray a startlingly lithe frame. Scuffed converse sneakers peak out from underneath him, sitting cross-legged in the chair in a way that has Luke imagining all kinds of contortions the guy must be able to get into. Considering his angular face, full lips and startling brown eyes, the images aren’t all entirely appropriate.

Luke has no idea who this man is or why he thinks he’s going to get away with sitting in Morgan’s chair, but he can feel himself dialling up the charm almost without thought as he approaches their cluster of desks.

He brushes off the exhaustion of their last case and pulls out the kind of smile he hasn’t bothered using in a long time. The man smiles back almost shyly, which does nothing to curb the instantaneous attraction Luke is feeling. He leans against his desk and tilts his chin.

“I see the FBI’s getting lax about the dress code,” he teases. “I’m a fan.”

“Not quite,” the man says with that same soft smile. He taps at a Visitor ID tag hanging from the hem of the sweatshirt. “I’m flattered you think I could be an agent though.”

“Oh, I dunno.” Luke looks him up and down, tries for flattering and not leery. “I could see you on a recruitment poster.”

The man blushes a delightful shade of pink but doesn’t have a chance to respond before Prentiss snorts inelegantly from behind Luke. “I really hope you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, Alvez.”

Luke tilts his head in her direction without taking his eyes entirely off the man in front of him. He feels almost like he physically can’t look away. “What? I’m just being friendly. The FBI wants their visitors to feel welcome, don’t they?”

Prentiss walks fully into view. Luke’s pretty sure she waited until he could see her face before rolling her eyes on purpose. “I’m too tired for this. Hey Spencer.”

She ruffles the man’s hair for a brief moment, a barely there touch that he’s obviously familiar with; he only moves his head back slightly in token protest. Luke feels a pool of regret and embarrassment immediately build in his stomach. He’s suspected for a while that Emily was seeing someone – if he’s just been hitting on her new beau he’s going to have to go into hiding.

“Hi, Emily. How was the case?”

“Long.” She drops her go bag on the floor with a thud and rubs a delicate hand down the side of her face. “There’s a bubble bath and big bottle of wine in my very near future.” She smiles at him, Spencer, and it’s tired but full of affection. “It had a good ending though.”

Spencer nods in return, looking somewhat relieved. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. It’s got Derek in a good mood, so if you need something, ask for it now.”

Luke’s brain diverts from guilt and goes straight into confusion. The guy’s definitely not Morgan’s boyfriend, because aside from the fact that he’s never shown any interest in settling down, Luke’s certain that he’s straight.

“Hang on – “ he starts, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of the rest of their team.

“Derek is tired as fuck so anything you need can wait until morning,” says Morgan as he rounds the bullpen. Unlike Prentiss he beelines straight for Spencer and doesn’t so much ruffle his hair as shove his whole head. The action is immediately belied by slinging a strong arm around the slimmer man’s neck and pulling him close. Spencer makes noises of protest the whole time but doesn’t actually pull away as Rossi and JJ bring up the rear. “What are you doing here, kid?”

“Waiting for you.”

Morgan rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Why?”

Spencer looks up at Morgan from under his hair. “I’m working on my new behaviour therapy paper, I wanted to pick your brain.”

Morgan meets his eyes with a look of scepticism. “At 1am?”

Spencer’s expression morphs into a slight pout that Luke, despite having no idea what the hell is going on, finds himself melting at. “I couldn’t sleep.”

It seems to have a similar softening affect on Morgan. He sighs and shakes Spencer’s shoulder slightly. “Yeah, well, I can, and I need to, so your interrogation is gonna have to wait until morning.”

“It’s not an interrogation – “

“I’m pretty sure you stop breathing when you start asking me those questions, seriously, it’d be impressive if it wasn’t so damn annoying – “

“Boys,” JJ interrupts fondly, “save it for daylight, would you?”

Spencer’s pout is back. “Fine.”

“Come on, you can stay at mine,” says Morgan, tugging Spencer impatiently out of the chair. “We’ll put on Blue Planet, fall asleep on the couch.” Spencer sighs, long and drawn out like he’s being asked to do a terrible task, but Morgan doesn’t pay attention – he’s finally caught the look on Luke’s face. He grins.

“Oh right, you haven’t met yet,” he says, and nudges Spencer in the side. “Kid. Say hello to the newbie.”

“I’ve been here six months,” Luke points out automatically – it’s still the team’s favourite nickname for him – but he’s distracted by Spencer’s focus being entirely back on him. He waves, a small, awkward action that is stupidly endearing.

“They were getting along just fine before you got here, Derek,” Prentiss points out. The hint of mischief in her tone is one that Luke’s learned to be wary of, and the hard look Morgan is suddenly sending him only reinforces the feeling.

“Were they, now?”

“We, um, didn’t actually get to introduce ourselves though,” Spencer says. “Hi. Spencer Morgan.”

Luke wants to blame the lack of sleep on the way he immediately freezes up. He looks back and forth between them, and finally his brain starts feeding him some very helpful memories of all the times Morgan and the others have discussed his genius kid brother over the months. Luke’s actually been wanting to meet the guy for a while; apparently they occasionally manage to drag him out on team nights but he’s not made an appearance since Luke joined. From the sounds of it, he doesn’t know all that many people in the area and is stubborn about putting himself out there, and as a result, the whole BAU seems to have adopted him as one of their own. Prentiss has mentioned foreign film festivals she’s enjoyed with Spencer Morgan, JJ once made a comment about his love of Halloween while they were on a case, and the way Garcia gushes about the guy butter wouldn’t physically be able to melt in his mouth. Even Rossi’s laughed about asking the kid to proof-read his next book.

But no one is more proud – or more protective – of Spencer Morgan then his older brother Derek, and Luke was _just hitting on him_.

Registering the probable shock on Luke’s face, Spencer grins, amused. “I know. The resemblance is uncanny.”

“What? No, sorry, I – “ Luke shakes his head, tells himself to snap out of it. He steadfastly ignores the way the rest of the team are smirking at him. “I just. I didn’t… realise you’d be here.” He winces and silently begs for the smooth talker from ten minutes ago to come back. “Sorry, I’m running on like three hours sleep, here. Hi.” He clears his throat and pulls himself up, remembering at the last moment not to offer his hand. “Luke Alvez. Resident New Guy, occasional idiot. Sorry. Again.”

To his credit, Spencer doesn’t seem bothered by Luke suddenly turning into a bumbling mess at the revelation, though the look Derek is still giving him is plenty unsettling. “It’s fine. It’s a pretty common reaction.”

“Yeah, this is nothing compared to when Rossi met him,” laughs Prentiss, and Rossi immediately protests, finally taking the attention away from Luke. He sags, just a bit, but Spencer catches his eye and gives him another gentle smile.

The team finally moves to gather their things and make their way home. Spencer is caught up in a conversation with JJ when Morgan is ready to leave and has to be physically dragged away by the arm. He says his goodbyes as they go, and Luke gives an impressively awkward wave of his own.

He stares at the elevator doors as they close and is only brought out of his trance by a rough shove. Prentiss is grinning at him, clearly having the time of her life watching Luke act like a complete moron. “Boy, you’re in trouble,” is all she says, and Luke can only glare at her retreating form as she makes her own way out.

He’s a little bit worried that she might be right.

* * *

 

This is what Luke knows about Spencer Morgan.

He was adopted by Fran Morgan after the death of her husband, when Derek was ten. This would have put Spencer at four years old. Luke doesn’t know why Spencer was in the system, what happened to his original family. He thinks Garcia and maybe JJ do, but it’s never come up while he’s been in the room.

Spencer Morgan is a certified genius, a prodigy that everyone had big dreams for. It would seem, at one point, Spencer shared in at least some of those dreams – he’s got multiple PHDs, Luke’s not sure how many – but he’s no longer enrolled at any college and from what Luke’s heard, isn’t actually doing a whole lot with his time anymore. He writes the occasional paper for fun (which had Luke shaking his head when he heard; the greatest part for him about graduating was knowing he’d never have to write another damn essay in his life) and plays chess at a park close to his apartment, but otherwise seems to be rather aimless. This is a constant source of aggravation for Derek, and their mother, by the sounds of things, who both clearly think Spencer is destined for bigger and better things. Derek’s come into work in a foul mood more than once because of arguments on the subject.

He also knows that Spencer is at least somewhat attracted to men, because he’s certain he’s heard Garcia mention an ex-boyfriend before. He tries not to think about this fact too much.

This is all information Luke’s put together over time from conversations had and comments made. He’s never gone out of his way to piece together Derek’s faceless brother, but the job of a profiler is to compile facts and evidence into a working theory about who someone is as a person, and a profiler is never truly off the job. He’s learned other little things, like how he gets anxious around dogs and isn’t comfortable with physical touch from people he doesn’t know and that he has a sweet tooth the size of Washington but has never had a single cavity.

None of this information – this profile – had prepared Luke for actually getting to know the man.

He sees Spencer a little more after their first meeting. He occasionally joins the team when they decide to let off steam, drinking and dancing at their favourite greasy bar or lounging in the backyard of Rossi’s elaborate property. He hadn’t made it to any of their previous gatherings, not since Luke had joined the team, and after getting to know him a little better Luke thinks it might be because he was nervous about how the new guy would react to him tagging along. Luke’s pretty sure he puts paid to those anxieties fairly quickly, though, because for the life of him he cannot stop interacting with the guy.

Every time he’s in the same vicinity as Spencer, Luke finds himself gravitating towards the younger man. Everything about him is intriguing. The way his brain leaps from tangent to fact to philosophical wondering is fascinating, and Luke enjoys the hint of challenge he feels in keeping up. He also enjoys the fact that he _can_ keep up; not once does their conversation ever stagnate. Even when it begins as a larger dialogue amongst the group, the two constantly find themselves getting swept up in their own discussion on the matter, and often ends with Luke coming out of some sort of tunnel vision an hour later to discover everyone else has given up on getting their attention.

“You’ve never seen Star Trek?!”

Luke can’t help but laugh at the incredulity on Spencer’s face. They’re the only two still sitting at their table, with Rossi chatting up a distinguished looking woman at the bar, Derek and Prentiss trying to outdo each other on the dance floor, and Hotch and JJ having left more than an hour ago. Spencer’s not a dancer, so he insists every time, and Luke’s enjoying his company too much to go anywhere else.

“Sorry man, I was always more of a Stargate fan.”

“But it’s classic sci-fi!”

Luke, partly because it’s the truth and partly because he just wants to wind Spencer up, replies “from what I could tell it was mostly just Kirk kissing green women.”

“That – “ predictably, Spencer finds this unacceptable and throws his hands up in the air. “That’s like point five percent of the show! Kirk doesn’t just go around kissing aliens - which they only had him do in the first place to distract censors from genuine social commentary they were attempting to get across, I might add - he’s incredibly more nuanced than that! You know one of his old classmates describes him as a stack of books with legs?” Spencer doesn’t stay still when he’s impassioned. He’s waving his hands around and bobbing his head enthusiastically, and Luke feels like he could just watch him rant all night. “He sets the precedent for friendly relations with other worlds! He’s basically an intergalactic ambassador for peace, and it’s not just him! The whole crew is a fantastically varied ensemble of personalities and strengths. Spock – don’t even get me started on Spock.” He leans forward now, truly engaged, and Luke struggles to hold back the goofy smile that’s trying so hard to break free. “Spock spends all this time insisting he’s logical and rational above all else, but as soon as one of his friends are in trouble you can just see how much he cares, how worried he gets.”

“Okay, alright, I’ll admit, it sounds a lot better than I imagined,” Luke concedes, a hand in the air as a signal of surrender. “Sounds like it has a lot in common with Stargate, actually. You must be pretty into that one too, huh?”

Spencer’s response is an expression of… it takes Luke a moment to realise it’s embarrassment, and he laughs, delighted. “You’ve never watched Stargate, have you?”

Spencer’s lips twist in an adorable admittance of guilt. “I didn’t think it would live up to Star Trek.”

Luke laughs again. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s had this much fun and he’s practically sober. “This is great, okay, finally there’s something I can educate you on. You’ve gotta watch Stargate man, seriously. You’d love it.”

Spencer looks thoughtful for a moment, before raising an eyebrow that usually means he’s won some kind of argument. “Only if you watch Star Trek.”

“Deal.” Luke doesn’t really think before he adds, “we can educate each other. Do some vintage science fiction bingeing.” It’s more forward than he meant, suggesting they get together outside of team nights to practically Netflix and Chill, but the way Spencer immediately lights up at the idea doesn’t give him the chance to second guess it.

“That’s a brilliant idea. You’re not gonna regret it, I promise.”

Luke’s smile is probably just a little too warm. “I don’t doubt it.”

Luke’s studiously avoided flirting with Spencer after their first awkward meeting. For one thing, he’s still the newbie, and he’s pretty sure the team would side with Derek if the guy decided to shoot him, but more importantly, Luke… really likes Spencer. He looks forward to seeing him with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm, and he knows, from a variety of their own conversations and little things he’d picked up before meeting him, that Spencer is a particular brand of vulnerable. Spencer doesn’t trust easily, holds himself together carefully, and isn’t one for making new connections with people. The fact that Luke finds himself getting closer to the man with every exchange makes him feel like he’s being given something rare, something worth safeguarding, and he has no intentions of fucking that up.

So he holds back on the cheesy lines and suggestive looks, keeps his touching friendly in nature. Sometimes he finds himself wondering; he allows the occasional daydream of what it would be like, to take Spencer on a date, to feel the press of his lips, to have him writhing in his bed, but he always, eventually, locks those thoughts away. It’s a fun little fantasy, but it’s no more than that, and it never will be.

If occasionally Luke has to remind himself of that as he watches Spencer tip his head back in laughter or furrow his brow in concentration, well. He’s always been a dreamer.

* * *

Three women have been dumped in Bismark, North Dakota, in the past two months. All have had their throats cut and their fingertips burned away. The coroner believes they were held over an open flame. Traces of butane suggest the source is a lighter.

It’s a gruesome case, more from the amount of pleasure their UNSUB is clearly taking in the torture of his victims than the torture itself.

They’re on day three of the investigation, which is about when the lighter moments they share dry up and a grim determination blankets the air around them, refusing to be removed until the killer is locked away and the case is solved.

Luke finds himself staring at the map, the locations of the abductions and the dump sites displayed by brightly coloured stickers. They’re bright to be easily seen against the details of the map, but he finds them mildly galling all the same.

“There’s no pattern to his movements,” he says, frustrated. Prentiss and Rossi are going over the latest scene, Morgan interviewing the first victim’s parents. JJ and Hotch are his company in the conference room, pouring over the history of the victims’ movements. Garcia is combing through footage of men buying cigarettes from stores within the UNSUB’s comfort range, but even with the city being relatively small, it’s a lot of names to examine. Luke taps at a hot pink dot with frustration. “He’s taking them from alleys and parking lots and leaving their bodies in parks and near shopping malls. It’s like he’s terrified of being seen kidnapping these women but then he wants everyone to see what he’s done to them.”

“And why is he travelling so far in between?” JJ adds, looking up at the map with tired eyes. “I mean, he dumps Katie Foster two suburbs away from where she was taken, but then goes 10 miles north to abduct Sarah? What’s dictating his movements?”

Luke doesn’t have an answer. He goes back to glaring at the map as if something will jump out at him if he narrows his eyes enough.

An indeterminate amount of time later, JJ speaks up again. “Hotch… what if we got some outside help?”

Luke turns back towards the table, attention caught by the hesitance in her tone. Hotch has an unreadable look on his face, and his voice is even when he says “no”.

JJ bites her lip, conflicted, before she decides to push. “Look, none of us are making heads or tails of the UNSUB’s movements and a proper geographical profile – “

“JJ,” Hotch interrupts. He voice has gone stern but he looks more understanding than angry. “He’s not a consultant anymore. And you know Morgan wouldn’t allow it.”

“I know it’s not Morgan’s decision, and I know Spencer misses the work he did with us,” JJ shoots back.

“Wait, hold up,” Luke butts in, thrown off. “Spencer? He consults with the FBI? Why didn’t I know about that?”

“Because he doesn’t, not anymore,” says Hotch, still looking at JJ. “He hasn’t for almost two years.”

“You said geographical profile,” Luke hedges, looking between his boss and his co-worker. “I thought they weren’t accurate enough to be viable.”

“They are when Spencer does them,” JJ replies. She glances at Luke, then away. She sounds oddly guilty. “Gideon got him into it.”

“JJ,” a definite warning from Hotch this time, and JJ looks down at the files in front of her, looking mildly upset. She doesn’t mention it again, and Luke, reading the room, forces down his questions.

Still, they plague him. On day five they finally close in on Maxwell Bird, the victim of his own mother’s molestation, and it’s with a palpable sense of relief that they pack up the conference room, leaving everything as if they had never been there in the first place. On the jet home, Luke strategically places himself in the seat across from Morgan. Morgan raises an eyebrow, clearly able to sense that Luke has an ulterior motive, but neither of them speak until they’re well into the journey home.

“I heard Spencer has a knack for geographical profiles,” Luke finally says while Morgan’s busy staring out the window. He looks at Luke sharply. “JJ mentioned he used to do some consulting work.”

“Did she,” says Morgan, and doesn’t elaborate. He seems annoyed by the revelation, but Luke figures he’s already in it, so he asks the main question.

“Why’d he stop?”

Morgan goes back to staring out the window, but his eyes have taken a far-off nature to them. “Wasn’t good for him,” he says quietly.

The answer – if it can even be called that – explains all of nothing and only helps Luke’s brain to come up with more of the worst case scenarios he’s silently been stewing on for the past two days. He inhales in preparation to try a different approach, but Morgan cuts him off.

“Don’t, Alvez.” He’s looking at Luke again, meeting his eyes with a look of pain trying to stay buried. “It went bad, alright? It went bad, it was two years ago, and there’s no need to be bringing it back up.” His eyes shift to the back of the plane for a moment. “JJ knows that.”

Luke wants to know what happened, so much so that it’s almost a physical feeling in the pit of his stomach. Spencer has his quirks and is clearly a very cautious person in most aspects of his life, but he’s never displayed any kind of trauma symptoms that Luke’s seen. If it was bad enough to so clearly unsettle Derek, bad enough that it’s something of a taboo subject to bring up amongst the team… the worst case scenarios of Luke’s imagination build and spread, and he has to force himself to steady his breathing as Morgan pulls out his headphones, clearly done with the conversation.

It’s been eight months, now, but in many ways Luke Alvez is still the new guy on the team. For the most part, that doesn’t bother him – a group like this bonds over experiencing the worst of humanity on a weekly basis, and they’ve been incredibly welcoming from the very beginning but of course, in this job, it’s a long term process to truly become one of them. Luke understands this, but for the first time, he can’t help but resent it, just a little. Because if he was a member of the team in the way that the rest of them were – if he’d been here, with them, two years ago, he’d understand what had happened to keep Spencer at arms length from the workings of the FBI. He wouldn’t find himself unable to sleep on the jet home, obsessing over all of the terrible things that could have happened to such a genuine, sweet man. He wouldn’t get stuck questioning whether, if he had been here, he could have prevented whatever terrible thing had happened, and experience an intense feeling of shame at thinking such things when he knows the team would have done everything they could to keep Spencer safe. Because they all care about the brilliant little brother of Derek Morgan, Luke was able to see that before he ever met the man.

But Luke thinks he might care just a little bit too much, and now more than ever, he really has no idea how to handle that.


	2. Two: Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the lives of Derek and Spencer, growing up as brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did genuinely mean to work up to, and eventually write, what happened with Spencer as a consultant before I wrote this. My brain had other plans on what was to be written next. Anyone who knows me is not surprised by this.
> 
> I know nothing about kids. I understand nothing about them. They're terrifying and confusing. I only mention this because I wrote some sections involving kids and have literally no idea if they're out of character or not. I'm sorry. To be fair Spencer is a genius but still.
> 
> WARNINGS, PLEASE READ: this chapter discusses in some detail what happened to Spencer during what he recounted in Elephant's Memory, as in, it looks at what happened in this universe's version of Spencer being naked and humiliated in front of classmates, including a panic attack and possible disassociation. It also describes the beginnings of the violation Derek experienced at the hands of Carl Buford. It doesn't go into extreme detail and most of what happened to him doesn't happen in this, but please be aware.
> 
> STILL WARNINGS AND OTHER INFO: There are certain episodes I haven't watched of Criminal Minds due to my own personal reasons, in this case (and not because of parallels between me and Derek but my own issues I have), episodes focusing around Carl Buford and what he did. This being the case, I only know what happened due to Buford through things other people have said and Derek's wikipedia page. So aside from the things I purposefully changed it still might not be entirely accurate, and I'm completely okay with that, but I just wanted to explain why. On a related note, I have not seen any episode starring Derek's sisters, and that's the main reason they don't exist in this universe. I have no idea how to write them as I've never actually experienced them on screen so I thought it best not to try.

When Fran officially adopts four year old Spencer Reid, Derek is angry.

His father is dead, and at ten years old, Derek has no idea how to deal with that, but the easiest coping method he’s found is anger. He feels a blinding rage at the man who has taken his father’s life, but the anger bleeds into other aspects of his life in ways that he can’t fully understand. He’s angry at all of the people who come by to offer their condolences, as if some sympathy and a damn casserole will fill the sudden void in his life, as if it will stop the tears that have become a constant on his mother’s face. He’s angry at the other policemen, who he’d once looked up to, who, once upon a time, he had tried to impress and to emulate, for not preventing Hank’s death. He is so, so angry at all of his friends, who don’t understand what he’s going through, who still have a dad to tuck them in at night and scare the monsters away.

Derek Morgan is just angry, and as a ten year old boy, he doesn’t bother to try and understand it. He embraces it, because when he’s angry, at least he isn’t crying.

So eight months after Hank dies, Fran brings Spencer into their home, and Derek rages. He yells, at his mum, at Spencer, he yells into his pillow. He smashes the flower vase that had been given to Fran by her mother, and when she sends him to his room for it, tears back in her eyes, he refuses to feel guilty for it. He feels betrayed, like she’s trying to fill the empty space in their house with someone else, and he can’t understand why this little boy – this boy who looks and acts nothing like them - suddenly has to be a part of their family.

Throughout all of his tantrums and screaming and brief flashes of violence, Spencer does not react. Fran tries to shield him from it but Derek isn’t having any part of that, and is determined that this interloper see just how against him he is. But little Spencer never gets upset, or afraid. He watches with intent eyes, he tracks Derek’s movements and listens to every hurtful thing that comes out of his mouth, but he never reacts.

Naturally, this only makes Derek angrier.

Two months after Spencer had first started staying with them, Derek finds himself sitting on his bed, fuming, in what is becoming an endless stream of timeouts. They always end with Fran coming in and hugging him, trying to talk to him about what’s going on, about what he’s feeling. That very often ends in more tears, and Derek really does feel bad for that. He’s angry at his mum, in ways he can’t fully comprehend, but he is really growing to hate seeing her cry.

There’s a light tap on the door and Derek braces himself for the same routine, but when the door opens it isn’t his mother tentatively stepping into the room. It’s Spencer, unruly hair fanning out over his face, carrying a place with a sandwich cut into jagged, uneven triangles.

“Get out,” Derek hisses. “You’re not allowed in here. Get out.”

“Sorry,” says Spencer, frustratingly calm, “I know this is your space. But I thought you would be hungry. You should eat.”

Derek stares. It’s the most Spencer has ever said in hearing distance to him, and something about this child six years his junior bringing him a sandwich twenty minutes after Derek had colourfully told him to ‘piss off’ is absurd.

Spencer seems unphased by his lack of response. “Sometimes when my mum had bad moods she didn’t eat. It made her sick.” He doesn’t even try to approach the bed, just sits the plate down on the desk by the door. He doesn’t look Derek in the eyes.

“Where is your mum?” Derek asks harshly, a part of him hoping to hurt. “Why couldn’t you just stay with her?”

For the first time, Derek sees some real emotion play out on Spencer’s face. His whole face twitches and suddenly his eyes are shiny like his own mum’s gets, but his voice is still the same quiet, even tone when he answers, “I don’t know.”

This throws Derek off. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Didn’t they tell you?”

Spencer’s staring at the floor. “They said she can’t look after me.” He frowns, his little fists clenching. “I told them I looked after her but they didn’t – they wouldn’t listen.”

The conversation’s taken an unexpected enough turn that there’s not heat to Derek’s words when he says “you’re like, a baby. Babies don’t look after their mums.”

“I am not!” says Spencer, and finally looks at Derek – really looks him in the eyes for the first time. Derek is shocked to see actual anger on his face. “I’m not a baby, and I can look after her, I could – I could look after her – “ suddenly Spencer is crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks and Derek is so thrown off guard that he actually forgets about being angry for a minute and for the first time, feels some kind of instinct to help the kid.

“Whoa – hey, I wasn’t saying you couldn’t look after her,” he says, completely flabbergasted as to how he’s gone from swearing at Spencer to trying to comfort him. “I mean, I bet you could. You looked after me, right?” He waves uselessly at the sandwich. “You brought me food when I needed it.” Derek actually doesn’t have much of an appetite these days, but really, he’s not even entirely sure what’s coming out of his mouth at this point. “I bet you did a real good job taking care of her.”

Spencer is roughly wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, trembling with emotion but clearly trying to get it under control. “But they made me leave.”

“Well,” said Derek, completely out of his depth, “she’s your mum. She’s meant to bring you sandwiches, right? Not the other way ‘round.”

“I can make my own sandwiches,” Spencer says petulantly. Derek shrugs, because he doesn’t really have an argument for that – it’s not like he knows how this stuff works anyway. Not knowing the answer and feeling very uncomfortable in the face of Spencer crying after two months of stoicism, he latches onto the first change of subject his mind comes up with.

“Can you make anything else?”

Spencer looks at him with confusion, which is sort of fair, and Derek shrugs. “I know how to fry eggs. I can teach you, if you want.”

Half an hour later Fran walks into the kitchen to find both boys shouting as Spencer tips a smoking frying pan into the sink. She can’t bring herself to be mad about the ruined pan or the fact that Derek left his room before he was allowed. They’re yelling up a storm but it’s out of panic rather than anger and she’s too relieved to feel anything else.

Besides, something about the whole scene is undeniably cute.

* * *

At thirteen years old, Derek has become accustomed to feeling anger, but he’s also become much better at controlling it. He’s been seeing a counsellor for a few years now and has learned a lot about what are and aren’t healthy ways of coping with it. It’s much rarer these days that he lets anger consume him. He’s learned different ways of expressing it, coping with it, and for the most part he likes to think he’s pretty level-headed.

That doesn’t stop him from punching Adam Stanson in the nose one afternoon after school, and he doesn’t feel any kind of regret when his classmate clutches his face, blood streaming out between his fingers.

“What the _hell_ , Morgan?” he demands in a nasally voice.

“Make fun of my brother again and I’ll hit you twice as hard,” he says, and he means every word. He’d caught Spencer sniffling the night before, and the kid had tried to brush it off but Derek had seen his red eyes and the way his shoulders were trembling and had refused to leave the room until he’d dragged the story out of him.

“He’s not even your brother!” Adam yells, muffled by the hands over his face. “Why do you care so much, he’s just some stupid stray – “

Derek punches him again. He was right. It’s a lot harder the second time around.

* * *

Spencer starts high school the year after Derek does. Derek isn’t altogether proud to admit that this causes a good deal of consternation on his part.

He’s had years to grow accustomed to the fact that Spencer is a child prodigy. He’s a bona fide genius, and already leagues ahead of Derek himself, and for the most part Derek has accepted that, is even proud of the fact that his little brother is so brilliant.

But that doesn’t change the fact that his six years younger brother is suddenly in the grade below him and that for the first time they share a school. Derek is sixteen years old; he’s smack dab in the middle of puberty, he’s found himself to be pretty popular, and he’s convinced that he’s in love with Maybel from the grade above. He’s figuring out who he is on the waves of hormonal confusion and turmoil, and there’s a part of him that resents his ten year old brother for cramping his style. There’s a part of him, as ashamed as he is to acknowledge it, that’s angry at Spencer for being as smart as he is.

Spencer notices. Of course he does. Over the years Derek and Spencer have become, in a lot of ways, inseparable. They have a bond that consistently surprises people, impresses and confuses them in turn. While Spencer’s never had very many friends, Derek’s never had trouble finding them, but he still chooses his little brother over them. For science fairs, for trips to the museum, for those rare times when Spencer has what he refuses to call anything but a “mood”, Derek always chooses to be with him first. He still socialises plenty with his own group, and Spencer has never had problems with keeping himself entertained, but above all, they choose to be together. It’s not really even something Derek thinks about. He goes to watch a game with his friends, he hangs out with them in the mall, but if he’s invited to something when Spencer has a new experiment he wants to show off, Derek chooses him. When Simon tells him about the new arcade that’s just opened up and Spencer is lying in his bed refusing to respond to anything anyone says to him, Derek stays home, keeps him company and brings him triangle cut sandwiches.

So, when Derek starts responding less to him in public, becomes just that little bit more distant when they see each other in the halls, Spencer notices. He never brings it up. Derek can see the confusion and the hurt every time he brushes him off, and he hates it, he hates that he’s causing it, because since moving on from his grief and anger Spencer’s feelings have become what Derek has tried to protect most. He hates that he does it but he can’t seem to stop himself sometimes. And that shameful, cowardly little part of Derek is relieved that Spencer never confronts him about it.

That all changes on a brisk October evening after football practice. He comes out of the lockers to the sound of shouting and jeering echoing back to him from the field. Curious, and with an odd sense of trepidation in his stomach, he follows the sounds and can quickly make out a large crowd surrounding the far goal posts. It’s chaotic, everyone jumping up and down and shouting, and the dread spreads through his body as he makes his way closer. He pushes through the throng of teenagers, finally breaks through the front line, and for a moment – for just a split second – he freeze s.

Spencer stands in front of him, his arms tied to the goal post, completely naked. He’s staring at the ground but his eyes are wide, panicked, his whole frame is shaking. Derek’s seen Spencer have panic attacks before. They’re extremely rare, but Derek knows the signs. Spencer’s chest is rising and falling too fast to be safe, and he’s staring at the ground but he’s not seeing a thing. He’s in his head, he’s somewhere he doesn’t know how to escape from.

Derek sees red.

The first priority is getting Spencer free. He’s carried a pocket knife in his bag for the past four years. Spencer’s hands are tied together with nothing but a pair of shoelaces but the knot is impossibly tight, and Derek despairs at the red marks around Spencer’s wrists – evidence of him trying to break free – even as he cuts them away.

The crowd is booing and jeering, like Derek’s depriving them of the best entertainment they’ve had all year, and Derek would like nothing more than to go after every single one of them, but Spencer’s still the priority. He rips his sweater off and pulls it down over Spencer’s head, manoeuvring his arms through the sleeves without resistance. Spencer isn’t looking at him, still clearly isn’t entirely aware of what’s happening and his surroundings.

Of all people, it’s Adam that steps out in front of the crowd, looking annoyed. Derek has never felt more gratified about the crooked slant to his nose. “What the fuck, Morgan?” he asks, sounding genuinely offended. “We were finally starting to think you were cool.”

For the third time in his life, Derek punches Adam Stanson. This time, he doesn’t stop. He knocks him to the ground and then hits him again, and again, until the crowd of yelling teenagers starts to dissipate, panic suddenly in their voices, and Derek can see red and blue lights flashing on the other side of the field.

It’s Michael that puts Derek and Spencer in the back of his police car, drives them home. He had been at the house a few times before Hank died. He’d always been kind to Derek. Even now, despite the cruel words Derek had thrown at him when he was ten and grieving, Michael doesn’t say anything about the fight, or what happened. He drives them home, gives Derek a kind smile as he guides Spencer out of the back seat, and Derek feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He nods in thanks, his hands gentle on Spencer’s arms, and guides his brother to the front door.

Fran’s already in bed. Derek and Spencer usually get a lift home with one of Derek’s friends on Thursday nights – Spencer likes the excuse to spend a couple more hours in the school library, and has even, on one memorable occasion, actually sat in the stands to cheer Derek on during practice – and Fran keeps her mobile loud and alert by her bedside so that she can get some much needed rest without having to worry as much about her kids trying to contact her when they’re in trouble.

They both go to Derek’s bedroom. It’s not something Spencer likes to talk about but sometimes, when the nightmares or the anxiety or the silence gets to be too much to him, he likes to sneak into Derek’s bed, and no matter how much he’s grown Derek’s never begrudged him that. Now it feels more important than ever to have his kid brother curled up in his arms, where they both know it’s safe.

Derek doesn’t sleep much that night. When Spencer finally comes back to himself, finally understands where he is, and remembers what happened, the first words out of his mouth are “don’t tell mum” and after Derek nods and squeezes his hand, “thank you.”

Derek never ignores Spencer or brushes him off again. He goes out of his way to make him fist bump in the halls, calls out loudly to ask how class was, sometimes sits with him at lunch. He still has his own friends, his real friends, who have always been tolerable of Spencer and, after Derek’s new attitude, even include him on occasion. But Spencer is back to being his first priority, and Derek regrets that he ever let him fall down the list.

Some of the kids sneer at him, more sneer at Spencer, make comments about the geek and the jock, about the weirdo brothers, about what dorks they both are. Spencer’s more wary than ever of his peers but he’s always had a pretty thick skin when it comes to name calling, and Derek’s far beyond giving a fuck. Adam makes sure to steer clear of him after the goal post incident, and the little part of Derek that he doesn’t like to acknowledge – the part of him that rages, and cowers, feels just a bit proud of that.

* * *

 On recommendation from the counsellor Derek no longer sees, he spends most Saturday mornings at the local youth centre. He has for a few years now. He’d been reluctant and rather uncooperative to begin with – as he had been with most aspects of his life – but he grew to really enjoy the companionship of the other boys he saw there, and he admired the man that most often ran their activities and meetings.

Carl Buford had been kind and forever patient with Derek since he’d first started visiting the youth centre at age eleven. He’d never punished Derek for his early outbursts, had instead weathered them and been a major influence in helping Derek to learn how to control them. He’s been an inspiration and an incredible support to Derek for five years, probably the only adult male figure he trusts in his life, at this point, and that’s why when things start changing he can’t for the life of him figure out what to do.

It starts small, with extra compliments and slightly extended looks. Carl has always paid special attention to him, something Derek’s always been grateful for, but he’s become less comfortable with it these days. The way Carl looks at him seems different to how he used to, in a way Derek doesn’t understand and can’t define, but something about it makes him uneasy.

He does his very best to ignore it and brush it off, because Carl’s always been good to him, always, and Derek knows he can’t possibly have any reason to distrust him. So he ignores the sense of unease when Carl looks for just a moment too long. It becomes easy enough after a while, something of a habit, so it’s almost instinctual that Derek carries this attitude when Carl starts touching him more. His hands linger sometimes, and sometimes they go a bit lower than Derek’s entirely comfortable with, but they don’t necessarily go anywhere inappropriate, and Carl loves Derek, right? Carl’s always had his best interests at heart. Derek tries to chalk his growing unease up to teen hormones and does his best to ignore it.

Then, one day, Carl’s hand pushes under the waistband of his jeans, only slightly. Barely a fingertip brushes against his skin, but something about it scares Derek, genuinely scares him enough to stumble away, to stare in disbelief, to turn and run out of the building as fast as his feet can carry him. He doesn’t fully understand his own reaction – he barely even understands what the fuck just happened – and when he gets home he locks himself in his room and doesn’t come out, not when dinner is served, not when Fran demands he open the door, not even when Spencer’s voice drifts through asking if he’s okay.

Two weeks later, he’s not feeling much better. He’s still incredibly confused about what Carl Buford did, but while young, he’s not entirely naïve, and he understands the implications are… pretty awful. His initial, instinctual reaction to what happened only reinforce this.

Unfortunately, Derek is balancing years of support, guidance, and comfort against about fifteen seconds of questionable touching, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s overreacting, if he saw and felt something that wasn’t actually there.

Even worse, that little, ever difficult part of his brain can’t help but question, even if that touch was what it felt like, why should he have run away?

Carl’s been amazing to him. Carl’s helped him through some of his toughest years. Carl’s never shown anything but concern and affection and possibly even love for Derek. So he’s older. So Derek wasn’t expecting it. That doesn’t really mean it has to be wrong. Right?

Maybe this is what was always meant to happen.

Derek steels his resolve and despite the tremors he can’t seem to will out of his hands, he finally heads back to the youth centre. He’s not entirely sure what the plan is, but he figures he can at least talk to Carl. Ask him what the whole incident was about. Ask him why. Hear him out. Maybe figure out the reason behind all this.

But then he gets there and there’s Spencer. Spencer’s talking to Carl Buford, looking determined and honest the way he does when he’s confronted with a mathematical problem big enough to make him actually think about it. Derek has no idea what either of them are saying, he’s on the other side of the room, but he sees the fascination in Carl’s expression. Maybe he doesn’t entirely understand the gleam to his eyes but he sees _something_ and he sees the way Carl’s hand comes down to rest comfortingly on Spencer’s shoulder, the way it has on Derek’s so many times before, and suddenly he understands. He understands the feeling of dread, the sense of wrongness. Finally, he understands why, two weeks ago, he was afraid.

He couldn’t understand it, when Carl touched him, couldn’t truly understand what he wanted or the sinister look behind his expression, behind the moves he made. Looking from a distance, looking at Carl making the same moves, using the same expression on Spencer, Derek suddenly understood. Maybe he didn’t entirely understand where this came from, what the motivations were, for Carl to look at Spencer – to look at _him_ – the way he was. But watching Carl unleash that on Spencer, Derek knew, more than he’d ever known anything in his life, that it wasn’t right, and that it had to stop. Something about the way Carl was brushing his hand against Spencer’s shoulder had Derek convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was wrong, and that it needed to stop. Now.

* * *

In the end, it was Michael that officially arrested Carl Buford. Derek found some of his old admiration for the force drifting back after that.


End file.
